


Nerd Kamikazes

by Lamachine



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2183325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamachine/pseuds/Lamachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I just love it when you talk nerd.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nerd Kamikazes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grimorie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimorie/gifts).



> This idea comes from a conversation I had with Grimorie about Shaw's studies as a doctor, and the fact that she is, in fact, a closeted nerd. I promised her a little one-shot about it, and so there it is!

The stethoscope hits her thigh with every step as she quickly makes her way out via the back of the building. The familiar white lab coat is even more uncomfortably warm than usual and she struggles to fake smiles towards the patients and nurses down the corridor. She ducks out of the way when an ER response team rush someone through and avoids the strangers’ stares – it’s not that she doesn’t trust that the cover identity Finch created for her has any holes, but she doesn’t have time to chat if anyone starts asking questions.

 

She finally reach the outside as planned via the northern east door and, at the far end of the employees’ parking lot, she sees a brunette head waiting for her in a black Mercedes. She smirks when she notices that Root has moved to sit in the passenger seat, despite having driven here to pick Shaw up, but the agent quickly scrambles her grin before she steps into the hacker’s eyesight.

 

In the end, it wouldn’t have mattered if she had been smiling like a fool all the way, she discovers as she opens the door, because Root is typing furiously and the sound of her fingers on the keyboard is the only thing that welcomes Sameen into the car. She throws the lab coat in the backseat just as Reese’s voice buzzes in her earpiece.

 

“What do you think, Shaw?” he asks while she takes her place behind the wheel and closes the door behind her. Root barely lifts her eyes from her laptop and sends her a distracted smile as Shaw adjusts the seat to her height.

 

“I don’t trust the guy,” the agent answers, frowning when she doesn’t find the keys in the ignition. She taps on the hacker’s thigh with the tip of her fingers to get her attention and holds her hand out, palm facing up. “I think he’s faking.”

 

The hacker shifts on her seat, squirming, the laptop dangerously dangling on one knee as she searches her pocket. “It's not his fault his memory's corrupted.”

 

Shaw sighs as she waits, sending one look in the rear view mirror as if looking out for threats, and then gazes back to the hospital she just left. No one is coming after them; she knows she hasn’t blown her cover, but it’s a force of habit. “He doesn’t recall anything from college, but remembers his military years? I don't think so.”

 

Root smiles triumphantly when she manages to pull out the keys and offers them to Shaw. “If something traumatic happened to him last week–”

  

Sameen cuts her off angrily, stealing the keys from her fingers so quickly that the metal ring scrapes Root’s skin and leaves it reddening. “Yes, it could affect his memory, but of the last months,” Shaw thoroughly ignores the brunette’s pout, “not of stuff from years ago.”

 

“Ribot’s law isn't infallible Shaw,” the hacker replies, turning her attention back to her screen.

 

“Of course it’s not, it’s based on stupid principles,” Sameen argues, turning the key in the ignition and smiling when Finch’s Mercedes welcomes her with a healthy roar.

 

“Stupid principles like?” Root looks up, frowning.

 

Shaw checks the rear view mirror again before she leaves the hospital’s parking lot. She keeps her eyes on the road while she explains; “like the idea that the hippocampus wouldn’t be activated when the brain retrieves information from a certain memory age.” Sameen takes a left turn and then spares Root one look as she continues, “as if with time, your brain started to access certain knowledge differently, it’s ridiculous.”

 

“A computer doesn’t care what date the file was created,” Root translates.

 

“Exactly,” Sameen agrees. “But memory loss screws that up because you almost always lose recent memories before you lose anything from your past.” Shaw’s traits are concentrated even though she feels Root’s stare digging on her cheek. “Or you forget traumatic events. But why would Stevens forget his dumb college years and not his time in Afghanistan?”

 

The hacker looks away for a moment – towards her computer screen or just outside the window, Shaw doesn’t know. “Muscle memory?”

 

“No,” the agent immediately replies. “He remembers dates and events and people – not just skills.”

 

“But it’s possible that he did,” they reach a red light, and Shaw looks into Root’s eyes, confused. “Forget,” the brunette clarifies.

 

Shaw flinches. “I don’t think he did,” she returns her eyes ahead as the light switches to green, and she drives up the ramp to the highway, driving faster with ease and a growing sense of satisfaction. “Look, his brain tissue shows no signs of deterioration,” she passes a grey SUV so fast, it looks to Root like it was almost immobile, “there’s no history of Alzheimer’s in his family,” she switches to the speed lane and smiles that naughty grin that makes the brunette melt. “Or symptoms of any other neurodegenerative disorder, by the way,” she adds, even though the hacker isn’t saying anything, she’s staring like she’s in a museum but Shaw doesn’t really notice. “No lesions to his medial temporal hippocampus,” she finishes her diagnostic and signals that she’s about to switch lane only a second before she does.

 

When she stops talking, she spares a quick look to the right and sees Root’s annoying little smirk. “And you still believe the guy?”

 

“Well, the brain’s a complex system, Shaw,” the hacker offers, grin widening.

 

“Yeah, it is,” Shaw returns her attention to the road, passing a noisy ten-wheel delivery van. She waits until the sound of the loud engine quiets down before she adds, “but that guy’s a liar.”

 

Beside her, the brunette laughs; “oh, he definitely is.”

 

“What?” Sameen almost derails from her lane, surprised.

 

“He’s shady as hell,” Root replies, smiling.

 

Shaw frowns, settling back on her seat uneasily as she grips the wheel a bit more tightly. “Then why are you defending him?”

 

“I wasn’t,” the hacker innocently gleams, “I just love it when you talk nerd.”

 

Shaw spares her a disapproving look. “I don’t talk nerd,” she objects, pushing down the gas pedal as if trying to prove a point.

 

The hacker stares ahead, a pleased grin settled on her traits. “You just did seconds ago.”

 

“I don’t,” Shaw argues again. “I was discussing the facts. Science.”

 

She shifts and cuts in front of a sports car, dangerously snaking her way forward through the upcoming traffic, but her passenger doesn’t react.

 

Over the earpiece, John’s voice is mocking her. “I don’t know Shaw, it sounded pretty nerdy to me.”

 

“Admit it,” Root purrs. “You’re a science geek.”

 

“I am not,” Shaw opposes, turning on the Mercedes’ radio. “Shut up.”

 

[...]

 

Hours later, the sun is setting quietly as Root and Shaw stand outside a warehouse filled with angry rednecks in the business of trading black market guns and ammo. Sameen is adjusting the earpiece in her ear and loading her gun when the hacker turns to her, a grin on her face.

 

“Hey, Science Geek,” she calls her, and despite her own will Shaw immediately looks up at the nickname. “Who’s about to kamikaze with a nerd now?"

 

“Shut up,” the agent replies, nudging her elbow in Root’s side as she moves to stand in front of her, waiting for Finch’s signal. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”


End file.
